4 Blog updates in 2 days. Why aren't we out enjoying the sights you ask? And well you might, today is Sunday and we both have Euros burning holes in our pockets so decided after a late start to the day that we would travel by Metro to the large Paris shopping complexes of Printemps and LaFayette. Good plan you might think especially if you are expecting presents! Yes Bernie I am thinking about you!!! Anyway it was not to be because in true French style the shops ALL OF THEM are closed on Dimache so an alternative plan was hatched we would go to the Palace of Versailles using our train passes. Again another excellent plan was foiled because while the Metro seems to be back in full operation after the strike action of late last week the RER trains are on much reduced schedules. So blog updates and a drink in the sun was the final option.
This is our second long weekend in Paris and it is worth covering a few highlights none of which involve going to see any rugby unfortunately.
We are staying in a fairly average hotel in a great location with a few dozen other kiwis traveling like us and also on organised tours. They are a friendly bunch and good to share a drink with and a few "war" stories of our travels. Our hotel is located in an interesting neighbourhood right next to Gare L'Est on of the main train and metro stations. It is perfect to get around Paris.
Our first weekend we arrived by car with Michelle and Zane and dropped our car off early at the airport. Chris had covered over 3000 kms since we started out and wasn't that keen on driving in Paris, which is fair enough after having seen how mad the drivers are here.
On our first morning after meeting up with Mish and Zane and selling the semis tickets we wandered along the Champs Elyse and stopped for a coffee and juice. Warning to all traveller if it looks posh and the table clothes are real linen you are about to be ripped off!! However feeling flush after collecting cash for our tickets I decided the George V looked just the business for our morning coffee. Now we have not been converting our way around on this trip. In my view a pointless exercise but I made an exception here to show the size of the rip off. We consumed 3 espressos (those fabulously strong short coffees that we are both addicted to now) and 4 OJs Chris opting for a large glass and granted they were proper OJ but when the bill arrived for 47.50 Euro (or 95NZD) we thought they were taking the piss. It turns out that Chris OJ cost the equivalent of 28 NZD!! So thanks GV but we won't be going back anytime soon.
We travelled on the open deck bus tour and enjoyed the sights and have managed to do what most tourist do in Paris, the E Tower, the Arc, the Louvre and also take heaps of photos. We walked by the river, went to the famous and so beautiful Notre Dame and climbed the hundreds of steps to enjoy the view and visit Sacre Cour so we have done our bit for Paris tourism.
It is a beautiful city with amazing sights, the people watching is great and the roaming musicians who entertain with sax and accordion and guitar on the trains is good fun.
Apart from the sights though a highlight was discovering a tiny local bar close to where we are staying that had the most sublime jazz quartet playing last Sunday night. We are off to see if they are there again this week. It was a smoky and seedy little place that served cheap but very drinkable red wine and was a perfect place to end our week.
Yesterday the city was taken over by the English and SA rugby supporters. The English were the most obvious with painted faces, loud drunken behaviour and crazy costumes. They were drunk by lunchtime and extremely irritating to those of us who just wanted to forget the oval ball fiasco.
Interestingly haven't seen that many of the same group today, wonder why???
Tomorrow is our last day in France so we will shop and also have Moulin Rouge booked for tomorrow night. Then off on the Eurostar to Heathrow and LA for a bit of frivolous fun at Disneyland and of course more shopping........
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The journey north
Lyon proved to be a very interesting place indeed for both culinary delights and the sights.After many hours driving like a Frenchman possessed, it was great to park the car and walk around for a bit. Lyon has, like many french cities, some magnificent old buildings dating back hundreds of years. This left us wondering if some of our wonderful buildings put up today, would still be around in 500 years or so. Personally I can't imagine tourists queuing to see the Michael Fowler Centre or Aotea Centre ( for you Aucklanders)hundreds of years from now and marveling at how well it has stood the test of time, world wars etc. cynical I know, but it is truly amazing to think how these massive structures were built without the technology we have today.
Enough whining, we walked into a huge cathedral (called St Georges) and started wandering aimlessly, as tourists do,checking out the stained glass and statues when it suddenly occurred to us there seemed to be lot of people in here. When the priest came out with the alter boys in tow, it became glaringly obvious mass was starting and these annoying & noisy tourists should shut up and join in or get out.We thought it prudent to exit quickly, though not so quietly as Annie's high heel boots on a marble floor was far from subtle.
Restaurants don't even think about opening till 7:30- 8pm so with an hour or so to kill we were able to browse the shops, retail shops start later and don't close till about 7:30pm. Even shopping in France is so bloody civilised.
We found a tiny restaurant that looked nice but could identify a single thing on the menu except escargot- and I really thought I should try these things. Normally we can pick certain words on a menu and get a fair idea what we were ordering, but in this case we threw caution to the wind.
Of course the waitress spoke less english than I did french, and I soldiered on ordering the escargot.The reply was a warning that they are very spicy, still I carried on. She was not wrong, these things were drowned in chilli and some sort oil & herb sauce, but with water in hand and a determination not to be a wuss, I ate all 12. Despite the chilli, the snails tasted like a handful of soil,had a strong "earthy" flavour and I wondered if maybe these ones were fresh from under the woodpile out the back!!
Main course proved more of a challenge when Annie asked what anduillette was the description was "sausage made of veal" and then drifted of into french. Sausages sounded great so we both got those.The veal was the outside bit- it was the inside that was interesting- put another way, cutting it open reminded me of my days working at the freezing works ( particularly the offal room). This was not veal.We both fought the gag reflex and ate a respectable amount,and when we got back to the hotel looked up our guide book to find we had just eaten sausages made of pork tripe and " other bits". Not sure on the other bits, but my instinct on the offal room were spot on.Some things just never quite leave you.
On the brighter side, it didn't kill me, so it can only make me stronger, wiser & able to write interesting blogs.
Next day we were on the final leg to Paris and the thought of driving in this manic city is too daunting, besides I am sick of driving (3000km+)and really wish to be a passenger for a while. We will return the mighty Peugeot back to its rightful owners (french people) at Charles De Gaulle Airport, and use the train from then on.
Lyon to Paris was big long toll road, and "Gloria"redeemed herself by taking us on the Paris ring road and straight to terminal 3 as promised, on time & without a hitch.
Enough whining, we walked into a huge cathedral (called St Georges) and started wandering aimlessly, as tourists do,checking out the stained glass and statues when it suddenly occurred to us there seemed to be lot of people in here. When the priest came out with the alter boys in tow, it became glaringly obvious mass was starting and these annoying & noisy tourists should shut up and join in or get out.We thought it prudent to exit quickly, though not so quietly as Annie's high heel boots on a marble floor was far from subtle.
Restaurants don't even think about opening till 7:30- 8pm so with an hour or so to kill we were able to browse the shops, retail shops start later and don't close till about 7:30pm. Even shopping in France is so bloody civilised.
We found a tiny restaurant that looked nice but could identify a single thing on the menu except escargot- and I really thought I should try these things. Normally we can pick certain words on a menu and get a fair idea what we were ordering, but in this case we threw caution to the wind.
Of course the waitress spoke less english than I did french, and I soldiered on ordering the escargot.The reply was a warning that they are very spicy, still I carried on. She was not wrong, these things were drowned in chilli and some sort oil & herb sauce, but with water in hand and a determination not to be a wuss, I ate all 12. Despite the chilli, the snails tasted like a handful of soil,had a strong "earthy" flavour and I wondered if maybe these ones were fresh from under the woodpile out the back!!
Main course proved more of a challenge when Annie asked what anduillette was the description was "sausage made of veal" and then drifted of into french. Sausages sounded great so we both got those.The veal was the outside bit- it was the inside that was interesting- put another way, cutting it open reminded me of my days working at the freezing works ( particularly the offal room). This was not veal.We both fought the gag reflex and ate a respectable amount,and when we got back to the hotel looked up our guide book to find we had just eaten sausages made of pork tripe and " other bits". Not sure on the other bits, but my instinct on the offal room were spot on.Some things just never quite leave you.
On the brighter side, it didn't kill me, so it can only make me stronger, wiser & able to write interesting blogs.
Next day we were on the final leg to Paris and the thought of driving in this manic city is too daunting, besides I am sick of driving (3000km+)and really wish to be a passenger for a while. We will return the mighty Peugeot back to its rightful owners (french people) at Charles De Gaulle Airport, and use the train from then on.
Lyon to Paris was big long toll road, and "Gloria"redeemed herself by taking us on the Paris ring road and straight to terminal 3 as promised, on time & without a hitch.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Toulon SUN SEA and NAKED BODIES
Have just spent a glorious week in Toulon on the Cote D'zur. We never planned to go there but as we are discovering this blog site has been well named and a chance meeting sent us to Toulon instead of our intended destination.
Having sold our semis tickets last weekend we decided to go to the park behind the Eiffel Tower with about 100,000 other people to watch the game on the big screen and join in the party atmosphere. On our way to the park we met a couple in a bar and ended up chatting and sharing a beer with them. She was an Aussie and he was from South Africa and they had been travelling as well away from their home town of 8 years in Dublin. We mentioned that we were getting out of Paris and wanted to go to Marsielle it was at their suggestion we skip it and try further along the coast. Hence we ended up purchasing return tickets on the TGV to Toulon and were so pleased that we had.
Toulon is about 30 mins from Aix en Provence which is a glorious town with fantastic local markets and also about 45 mins from Nice etc so it was a good central location and we had thought we would do some sight seeing, we didn't though.
Toulon for you Rugby heads is home of the RFCT or the Rugby team that will be home to Tana Umunga, Anton Oliver, George Gregan and Victor Matlock. They already have Andrew Mertons playing for them. So its a real rugby town and Tana is the local hero. There are posters of him everywhere and Chris couldn't resist buying the locals teams jersey as a souvenir.
The weather was unbelievable and not to rub it in but we had clear blue skies and mid to high 20s everyday.
Its a naval port and a fishing town so the food, scenery, harbour and atmosphere was perfectly conducive to lying in the sun, swimming and drinking cold beers. All of which we achieved in our week.
We stayed for 3 nights in a central city hotel but for one night managed to go to the sea side area called Le Mourllion about a 10 minute bus trip from the Centre Ville. This is where the plages or main beaches are located and we found a beautiful hotel overlooking the marina for the night.
The day we spent there we ended up walking along the coastal walkway which was built a couple of hundred years ago and used by customs officers to look out for smugglers and pirates. Its is about a 10km round trip but I convinced Chris that all of the guide books recommended it to find some beautiful scenery and stunning private bays to swim in.
It was little more than a goat track in places and fairly heavy going in the heat but after promising, jokingly, that I would buy the first beer when we eventually stopped, out of nowhere and I mean nowhere we stumbled across a tiny village perched over a little bay that had a small cafe and tavern. Chris got his beer and we also got some amazing photos.
Feeling slightly refreshed we continued walking along the coast looking for a place to swim. We found one and both went swimming in the clear waters of the Mediterranean. We also got an eyeful of the local scenery as we had to walk past the locals basking in the sun and in all their glory. And overall tans were the order of the day in this part of the world. Not only were we the whitest on the beach but also the most over dressed.
So Toulon turned out to be a real highlight, the food was fab in local restaurants right on the water and the town was friendly. I'd recommend it to anyone.
Having sold our semis tickets last weekend we decided to go to the park behind the Eiffel Tower with about 100,000 other people to watch the game on the big screen and join in the party atmosphere. On our way to the park we met a couple in a bar and ended up chatting and sharing a beer with them. She was an Aussie and he was from South Africa and they had been travelling as well away from their home town of 8 years in Dublin. We mentioned that we were getting out of Paris and wanted to go to Marsielle it was at their suggestion we skip it and try further along the coast. Hence we ended up purchasing return tickets on the TGV to Toulon and were so pleased that we had.
Toulon is about 30 mins from Aix en Provence which is a glorious town with fantastic local markets and also about 45 mins from Nice etc so it was a good central location and we had thought we would do some sight seeing, we didn't though.
Toulon for you Rugby heads is home of the RFCT or the Rugby team that will be home to Tana Umunga, Anton Oliver, George Gregan and Victor Matlock. They already have Andrew Mertons playing for them. So its a real rugby town and Tana is the local hero. There are posters of him everywhere and Chris couldn't resist buying the locals teams jersey as a souvenir.
The weather was unbelievable and not to rub it in but we had clear blue skies and mid to high 20s everyday.
Its a naval port and a fishing town so the food, scenery, harbour and atmosphere was perfectly conducive to lying in the sun, swimming and drinking cold beers. All of which we achieved in our week.
We stayed for 3 nights in a central city hotel but for one night managed to go to the sea side area called Le Mourllion about a 10 minute bus trip from the Centre Ville. This is where the plages or main beaches are located and we found a beautiful hotel overlooking the marina for the night.
The day we spent there we ended up walking along the coastal walkway which was built a couple of hundred years ago and used by customs officers to look out for smugglers and pirates. Its is about a 10km round trip but I convinced Chris that all of the guide books recommended it to find some beautiful scenery and stunning private bays to swim in.
It was little more than a goat track in places and fairly heavy going in the heat but after promising, jokingly, that I would buy the first beer when we eventually stopped, out of nowhere and I mean nowhere we stumbled across a tiny village perched over a little bay that had a small cafe and tavern. Chris got his beer and we also got some amazing photos.
Feeling slightly refreshed we continued walking along the coast looking for a place to swim. We found one and both went swimming in the clear waters of the Mediterranean. We also got an eyeful of the local scenery as we had to walk past the locals basking in the sun and in all their glory. And overall tans were the order of the day in this part of the world. Not only were we the whitest on the beach but also the most over dressed.
So Toulon turned out to be a real highlight, the food was fab in local restaurants right on the water and the town was friendly. I'd recommend it to anyone.
Nice & Lyon
After a blissful few days in the tiny village of St Jeannet, we headed for the big city of Nice,negotiated our way to Nice airport (3rd biggest in France) to pick up Michelle & Zane who flew in from London to spend the week with us.
The weather here is superb, around 25°c and the beach was only a 5 min walk from our hotel.Everyday here is market day and the stalls are amazing, you can buy just about anything here.We found an ice-cream parlour called Finnochios which has 99 flavours of sorbet and ice cream.It was heaven on a hot day- although the cactus flavour sorbet was not the greatest taste experience.
So many great restaurants and cafes to go to made for a very cruisey day and evening.
A day trip to Monaco and further on to Menton was a real eye-opener. The money in Monaco spent on the super-yachts alone was enough to buy several small countries. None of us really liked it there as the city had no "heart"and it was all about looking good. The beaches there are great and Zane & I went swimming, with the locals having to don extra heavy duty sunglasses for glare of the kiwi boys with no tans.
Menton was less like Monaco, although very pretty and a real tourist town.
Back to reasonable reality in Nice Annie & I were in need of rest so spent the next day chilling out and doing something close to nothing. That night,well rested and rearing to go went wandering the city for food and entertainment. There were street artists everywhere but two proved to be exceptional and captured the attention of most passerby.One was a classical guitarist dressed in a bright coloured robe and wearing a venetian mask- who played the most amazing appegio (Spanish style) music. the other was a painter who used spray cans and torn cardboard,newspaper & plastic disks to create fantastic, surreal landscape portraits. We got there just as he was setting up, so got in early to order a painting that he made for us while we had a drink.
What a way to finish our stay in Nice.
Next day our journey continued north toward Paris, stopping in Aix en Provence (called Axe by the locals) for lunch. Ax is a beautiful little town, and like most french cities, steeped in history, but with little time to explore, had lunch wandered the markets and continued north. From here it was all A-roads (130 kph)to Lyon where we would stay the night. This was 4hrs of cruising at 130+ only stopping for the odd toll booth. All of a sudden the 130kph traffic would slow to 110 and the lanes would disappear with up to 20 tollbooths, some open some not, some reserved some not. It was like a free-for-all and the airport runway with cars, trucks & buses ducking & diving for their respective tollbooth. No-one in France seems to know how they charge at the tollbooths, so cost at each one is a complete mystery. One the other side the free-for-all starts again, much like a grand prix start, except no one wants to get behind a truck-or anyone else for that matter, so the sprint is for the outside lane 130kph ASAP. The little diesel Peugeot got bit of a workout here and gave some BMW's something to consider.
At a truckstop while getting diesel a couple tour buses came in loaded with very quiet Kiwis. Most still traumatised from their experience in Wales. As one guy said "it was an edge of your seat game... but I really didn't need that shit..."All in all they were in pretty good shape, bearing up to the rest of their tour.
The weather here is superb, around 25°c and the beach was only a 5 min walk from our hotel.Everyday here is market day and the stalls are amazing, you can buy just about anything here.We found an ice-cream parlour called Finnochios which has 99 flavours of sorbet and ice cream.It was heaven on a hot day- although the cactus flavour sorbet was not the greatest taste experience.
So many great restaurants and cafes to go to made for a very cruisey day and evening.
A day trip to Monaco and further on to Menton was a real eye-opener. The money in Monaco spent on the super-yachts alone was enough to buy several small countries. None of us really liked it there as the city had no "heart"and it was all about looking good. The beaches there are great and Zane & I went swimming, with the locals having to don extra heavy duty sunglasses for glare of the kiwi boys with no tans.
Menton was less like Monaco, although very pretty and a real tourist town.
Back to reasonable reality in Nice Annie & I were in need of rest so spent the next day chilling out and doing something close to nothing. That night,well rested and rearing to go went wandering the city for food and entertainment. There were street artists everywhere but two proved to be exceptional and captured the attention of most passerby.One was a classical guitarist dressed in a bright coloured robe and wearing a venetian mask- who played the most amazing appegio (Spanish style) music. the other was a painter who used spray cans and torn cardboard,newspaper & plastic disks to create fantastic, surreal landscape portraits. We got there just as he was setting up, so got in early to order a painting that he made for us while we had a drink.
What a way to finish our stay in Nice.
Next day our journey continued north toward Paris, stopping in Aix en Provence (called Axe by the locals) for lunch. Ax is a beautiful little town, and like most french cities, steeped in history, but with little time to explore, had lunch wandered the markets and continued north. From here it was all A-roads (130 kph)to Lyon where we would stay the night. This was 4hrs of cruising at 130+ only stopping for the odd toll booth. All of a sudden the 130kph traffic would slow to 110 and the lanes would disappear with up to 20 tollbooths, some open some not, some reserved some not. It was like a free-for-all and the airport runway with cars, trucks & buses ducking & diving for their respective tollbooth. No-one in France seems to know how they charge at the tollbooths, so cost at each one is a complete mystery. One the other side the free-for-all starts again, much like a grand prix start, except no one wants to get behind a truck-or anyone else for that matter, so the sprint is for the outside lane 130kph ASAP. The little diesel Peugeot got bit of a workout here and gave some BMW's something to consider.
At a truckstop while getting diesel a couple tour buses came in loaded with very quiet Kiwis. Most still traumatised from their experience in Wales. As one guy said "it was an edge of your seat game... but I really didn't need that shit..."All in all they were in pretty good shape, bearing up to the rest of their tour.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Saint Jeannet
We are so far behind with this blog we may have to do some fast forwarding especially since we leave Paris tomorrow and in the meantime have been to Aix en Provence, Lyon, Nice, Monaco, Menton and of course here in Paris for the non event semi final that NZ didn't play in!!! Just so you know we sold our tickets for a healthy profit and have been using the funds to enjoy the city of lights.
It is worth retracking though and describing our stay in St Jeannet the small B and B that Chris arranged for us before we left NZ; called the Frogs House or L Auberge it was a " day and night stay in a small village about 30 minutes from Nice and much nicer than the detour one. The village has about 1500 people living in the area but only about 200 living in the actual village confines. It is hundreds of years old and truly beautiful set high on a hillside over looking the valley and on a clear day you Can see the Mediterranean and the Mountains in 2 directions. Our stay with Corrine and Benoit our French hosts was truly memorable. They looked after us from the minute we arrived and we would recommend this place to anyone looking for a taste of real village living of course with all the perks of being waited on hand and foot!
They took us to local producers so we could see how things were still being done after hundreds of years so we sampled a local market where the growers come to sell their goods. Chris had the best honey he has ever tried. We also drunk local wine, our photo shows how it is stored in 50 glass bottles in the sun. This is the cleansing process no artificial filters here!
We visited a local olive press and tasted their products as well, good but not as tasty as the vino. Went mountain climbing only to stop at the summit and enjoy some local wine again, yes there is a theme and some bagette, fromage and jambon supplied by our hosts.
Chris also sampled Roquefort blue cheese and believe it or not goat and donkey meat! We improved our French hugely staying with our hosts and a number of other french speakers but were made to feel so welcome. They even commiserated with us when the french beat us. No they did really but only after we agreed to support France.
It is worth retracking though and describing our stay in St Jeannet the small B and B that Chris arranged for us before we left NZ; called the Frogs House or L Auberge it was a " day and night stay in a small village about 30 minutes from Nice and much nicer than the detour one. The village has about 1500 people living in the area but only about 200 living in the actual village confines. It is hundreds of years old and truly beautiful set high on a hillside over looking the valley and on a clear day you Can see the Mediterranean and the Mountains in 2 directions. Our stay with Corrine and Benoit our French hosts was truly memorable. They looked after us from the minute we arrived and we would recommend this place to anyone looking for a taste of real village living of course with all the perks of being waited on hand and foot!
They took us to local producers so we could see how things were still being done after hundreds of years so we sampled a local market where the growers come to sell their goods. Chris had the best honey he has ever tried. We also drunk local wine, our photo shows how it is stored in 50 glass bottles in the sun. This is the cleansing process no artificial filters here!
We visited a local olive press and tasted their products as well, good but not as tasty as the vino. Went mountain climbing only to stop at the summit and enjoy some local wine again, yes there is a theme and some bagette, fromage and jambon supplied by our hosts.
Chris also sampled Roquefort blue cheese and believe it or not goat and donkey meat! We improved our French hugely staying with our hosts and a number of other french speakers but were made to feel so welcome. They even commiserated with us when the french beat us. No they did really but only after we agreed to support France.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
The journey continues Toulouse, Nimes and St Jeannet twice!
After leaving St Emillion, we decided it was better to stay in Bordeaux, so as typical tourists we figured we could just roll on into Bordeaux and get some accommodation. How wrong we were. There was a major congress meeting on and everything was booked solid- except for a place in the train station district ( lonely planet will tell you how dodgy these areas are). So again in true tourist style, when the brown stuff hits the fan, you go to a bar and have a drink to strategize. With a full size map of France spread across two tables we made a plan- much to the amusement of the locals walking by. I booked a room for us in Toulouse- over the phone- and I have to say this put my limited & very bad french to the test. Scary but true I did it, Annie thinks I'm a legend- and I tend to agree. It was now about 6pm and we had another 2 1/2hrs to go to Toulouse. Once we got there we found there was to be parking at the hotel -what a bonus. Our stay here was pretty uneventful as we were both very tired, having driven the equivalent of Wellington-Auckland in one day, sightseeing included. Next day we checked out and headed for Nimes via Millau pronounced Meeyo for the uninitiated of us!
The drive to Millau was a whole set of different scenery- instead of vineyards as far as the eye could see there was farmland and the roads were narrow and winding. We could feel the climate getting warmer as we moved further south. Millau is a relatively small village that has now become a tourist site due to this massive feat of engineering across the viaduct. A tip: don't go to Millau if you want to drive across the viaduct bridge. Entry on the bridge starts a lot further north and we should have taken roads heading for Marsaille. Anyway we ended up at the tourist /info centre underneath the bridge and it was just too big and amazing to photogragh thats what postcards are all about.
From there we soldiered on to Nimes, on the way it was Annie's turn to book accomodation by phone.Her french is better than mine and she made the mistake of giving the impression that she could understand it better than she really did- "fake it till you make it" can come back and bite sometimes. The lady at the hotel in Nimes welcomed us in rapid french which was met with shrugs and blank looks. Her english was slightly better than our french so trying to explain to us that there was no parking in the centre city made us really paranoid. I had managed to find a park close to where we were and what we thought to be outside the city centre, the problem was it was on a road wide enough for 3 cars- there were already cars parked either side. It was the parallel park from hell with a queue of traffic patiently waiting while I shuffeled the car into the space. There was no question about finding somewhere else- they were just going to have to wait. The french seemed ok with this when you stop to reverse into a park they give you room, unlike NZ where someone will pull up right behind you then complain about the hold up.
Next day we went exploring, discovered how to use a laundromat ( all instructions in french)cost us a few euro figuring out our mistakes. Then went on a tour of the Amphitheatre. This is the best preserved Roman collisium in the world, in fact with only minor modifications it is still used today for the bullfights. Nimes has a great atmosphere to it and after the tour bought lunch at a local patisserie, and sat in the park to watch the world go by.
Our GPS told us our next stop (the eagerly awaited ST Jeannet) was only 2 1/2 hrs away, so we figured we should hit the road again. Sure enough we arrived 2.5hrs later at a St Jeannet, but not the right one. We were 150km off course, in the right provence, wrong region. We explained this to our hosts in the real St Jeannet, and they were amazed there were two such places. I have to say the first St Jeannet scared the crap out of me, it was about 6-8 houses in the middle of nowhere and I swear I could hear the banjo's playing- a distinct "deliverance" feel to it.
After sorting out the GPS we were off again and the trip now took us closer to Nice (where we should have been in the first place) and on this stunning drive through the mountain ranges. The roads are excellent, but very windy with 300m drops & sheer cliffs. However this didn't seem to slow down the french who seemed to know this road well- they drove like bloody maniacs.
6:30pm we arrived at the real St Jeannet, about 400m above sea level and overlooking the city of Nice, and a wonderful village of about 1500 people
The drive to Millau was a whole set of different scenery- instead of vineyards as far as the eye could see there was farmland and the roads were narrow and winding. We could feel the climate getting warmer as we moved further south. Millau is a relatively small village that has now become a tourist site due to this massive feat of engineering across the viaduct. A tip: don't go to Millau if you want to drive across the viaduct bridge. Entry on the bridge starts a lot further north and we should have taken roads heading for Marsaille. Anyway we ended up at the tourist /info centre underneath the bridge and it was just too big and amazing to photogragh thats what postcards are all about.
From there we soldiered on to Nimes, on the way it was Annie's turn to book accomodation by phone.Her french is better than mine and she made the mistake of giving the impression that she could understand it better than she really did- "fake it till you make it" can come back and bite sometimes. The lady at the hotel in Nimes welcomed us in rapid french which was met with shrugs and blank looks. Her english was slightly better than our french so trying to explain to us that there was no parking in the centre city made us really paranoid. I had managed to find a park close to where we were and what we thought to be outside the city centre, the problem was it was on a road wide enough for 3 cars- there were already cars parked either side. It was the parallel park from hell with a queue of traffic patiently waiting while I shuffeled the car into the space. There was no question about finding somewhere else- they were just going to have to wait. The french seemed ok with this when you stop to reverse into a park they give you room, unlike NZ where someone will pull up right behind you then complain about the hold up.
Next day we went exploring, discovered how to use a laundromat ( all instructions in french)cost us a few euro figuring out our mistakes. Then went on a tour of the Amphitheatre. This is the best preserved Roman collisium in the world, in fact with only minor modifications it is still used today for the bullfights. Nimes has a great atmosphere to it and after the tour bought lunch at a local patisserie, and sat in the park to watch the world go by.
Our GPS told us our next stop (the eagerly awaited ST Jeannet) was only 2 1/2 hrs away, so we figured we should hit the road again. Sure enough we arrived 2.5hrs later at a St Jeannet, but not the right one. We were 150km off course, in the right provence, wrong region. We explained this to our hosts in the real St Jeannet, and they were amazed there were two such places. I have to say the first St Jeannet scared the crap out of me, it was about 6-8 houses in the middle of nowhere and I swear I could hear the banjo's playing- a distinct "deliverance" feel to it.
After sorting out the GPS we were off again and the trip now took us closer to Nice (where we should have been in the first place) and on this stunning drive through the mountain ranges. The roads are excellent, but very windy with 300m drops & sheer cliffs. However this didn't seem to slow down the french who seemed to know this road well- they drove like bloody maniacs.
6:30pm we arrived at the real St Jeannet, about 400m above sea level and overlooking the city of Nice, and a wonderful village of about 1500 people
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Pourquoi????
As we have been travelling we have asked a number of questions about the things we have noticed that are different here in Francais so thought I would share a few of our observations in question form so far.
Why do the French let their dogs crap on the footpath everywhere you go?
Why do French people wear flat soled shoes? See above
Why do all of the shops in the village close for 4 hours in the middle of the day everyday?
How do the women stay so slim when there are pasterries and boulangeries that serve the most decadent cakes and sweet things in the world?
Why aren't the french in a permanent state of intoxication when there is so much wine on offer?
How can you manage to make such good wine that sells for a couple of euros and still make a living? We tried this one out spending less than 10 euro on 4 bottles of wine all of it completely drinkable!
Enough trivia but there will no doubt be more to come, if Chris remembers to write down my musing next time!
Why do the French let their dogs crap on the footpath everywhere you go?
Why do French people wear flat soled shoes? See above
Why do all of the shops in the village close for 4 hours in the middle of the day everyday?
How do the women stay so slim when there are pasterries and boulangeries that serve the most decadent cakes and sweet things in the world?
Why aren't the french in a permanent state of intoxication when there is so much wine on offer?
How can you manage to make such good wine that sells for a couple of euros and still make a living? We tried this one out spending less than 10 euro on 4 bottles of wine all of it completely drinkable!
Enough trivia but there will no doubt be more to come, if Chris remembers to write down my musing next time!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
